Unseen Traitor
by FirstNobody
Summary: They had reasons to expect him as one. They had proof to convict him for being one. He just never thought that his past, which he had no control over, would come back and force him to shoot himself in the foot. And now, no one trusted him, no one believed in him. So he was alone, alone to convince the world that he was not a traitor.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! Here is my next Derek 'Frost' Westbrook story. My last one was fun to write and I hope to enjoy this one even more. Now this first chapter may seem unimportant or confusing, but trust me as the chapters progress things will line up, if they don't then…well I just hope they do! As for a few things you need to know is just this**_**: James "Sandman" Mayer, Frank "Truck" Binninger, and Noah "Grinch" Swanson**_**. That right there is important, because I'm staying with those names for the rest of time! If you don't like them or have complaints about them, then just hold it in and forget about it. Now then the first part, which is italicized, is in the near future and then the rest is what leads up to that point. So please enjoy and if you like it or love it, please do not hesitate to review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

* * *

_He was forced to walk forwards, never left or right, just straight down the seemingly endless hallway. Hands cuffed a little bit too tightly behind his back, and feet harshly extending forward, Derek was once again rethinking his actions. Step by step he was forced to march forward, and the men surrounding him on all sides, gave him no sympathy as his eyes scanned their faces._

_Traitor, spy, _terrorist.

_Those words hit him straight on, as if a train had ran off its rails and crushed him beneath its wheels. No one believed him. No one trusted him. How could they? His past lead him to his own defeat. He knew it from the get-go. Yet, with his youthful mind, he knew exactly what he was doing, nothing mattered. And how could it? He lost everything he cared about. Well, almost everything. His family was still there to hold his hand when he needed it…right? Now that he thought about it, every time they reached out to him, he would simply slap it away without a second thought. So why would they reach out now? He hadn't talked to them in years. Did they know he was still alive? Probably not._

_What about his other family?_

_Was he even allowed to call them that?_

_He'd only been with them for a few missions, so was he even allowed to call them friends? Friends. That word hadn't been used in a long time. He almost chuckled to himself if he hadn't been in this situation. Hell, he even had to keep his title going. They didn't call him 'Frost' for nothing. Thinking back to what had recently happened, had he mistaken his teammates? If they really were a part of his life, would they really let these men take him away?_

_His neck tipped downward, letting his head fall forward slightly._

_He was right. The men that had quickly taken their place in his heart were nothing but liars. They never cared for him. Never in his life had he really felt a family connection with anyone he had worked with. But once he had joined the Delta Force, he felt that connection. He felt as if he could trust these men with his life. Not that he'd ever say it out loud._

_He was warned as a child, to never trust anyone. But he had gone against that order, and now his heart was torn in two, the rip streaming out the last of his emotions that he had held onto. He learned his lesson, and he'd be damned if he went against it again._

"_We're here," A man said, his voice carrying across the unnaturally long hallway._

_A small click rang into the air, and then Derek's arms swung to his sides._

"_This way Mr. Westbrook," the man said as he walked into a room._

_The area was small, walls painted in a dim white, as the flooring held an unusual gray tint to it. The man in front of him ushered Derek over towards the only thing sitting in the room, a small white table with a poll strapped to the top of it. Once Derek sat down, the man tilted his chest over the table with a smile and clicked a pair of handcuffs on one of Derek's wrists._

"_Can't be too careful," the man said as he inclined back into his chair._

_Sitting down slowly, ice blue crystal eyes scanned the room._

"_Now, Derek," the man spoke up, rendering Derek's wondering gaze back at his. "Can I call you Derek?"_

_Derek blinked, _who the hell does he think he is?_ He thought as his facial expression detained its emotionless state. _I could snap his neck in an instant and he thinks we can be friends?

_Blowing the air out of his lungs, the man leaned further back into his chair and puckered his lips. "Alright, no first names got it. Well for you anyway, call me Luke." _

_Derek slowly raised one of his eyebrows, in small response he spoke quietly, "Why?"_

"_Just thought you should know my name, since, you know," He continued with a chuckle, "I'm going to try and get information out of you." With no reply coming from the solder, Luke breathed out loudly and swiftly leaned forward. "That is…if you talk. Do you speak English, or is Russian more your style? You do talk, don't you?"_

"_You sure do," Derek replied as he eyed the man coldly._

_Luke gave a large smile and winked back at the solder. "Now, let us get back to the matter at hand. Shall we, terrorist?"_

* * *

"Truck, Grinch, scout ahead and check the floor above us. Report when it's clear," Sandman whispered forcefully.

Grinch nodded firmly, as he and Truck pushed the door open. Once they left the room, the door behind them unhurriedly closed as if knowing the teams operation depended on the inaudibility.

Sighing to himself, Sandman turned around slowly, the darkness of the room cloaking over his form like a large blanket. Suddenly, the dim light from the screen in front of him shocked his pupils momentarily before he quickly blinked away the white light that layered over his vision.

Frost had been typing on the keyboard in front of him for some time now. Concern began to flow into Sandman senses as Frost cursed colorfully under his breath. Maybe the team wasn't right to push the new solder. Frost was the FNG to the group, and yet Grinch and Truck had started treating him like a little brother the moment he was put on the team. Of course Frost here hadn't liked it at all. Maybe his last teammates weren't the best. Maybe they treated him foolishly. Maybe they tortured the poor solder to his limits and he built walls around himself to protect anymore hurtful invasions. Sandman began to glare at the screen, those solders had no right. Hell they had no right to treat anyone like that, no right to treat Frost like that. He stopped before he got ahead of himself. Sandman sighed; he was being unfair to the other solders. Maybe they didn't treat Frost like that; maybe Frost was just like this for a reason. But it still didn't give Frost the reason to treat his superiors with no respect.

"What's taking so long?" Sandman asked as Frost, once again, cursed lustrously.

"Dammit, Sandman, will you shut up!" Frost hissed as he typed faster onto the keyboard.

"It's not rocket science, Frost." Sandman growled back.

"It may not be, but I'm sure it's just as hard. You try overriding Russian security while searching for chemical warfare information."

Sandman let the argument drop. There was no use fighting the FNG if he had to deal with more important things. But he'd be damned if he let Frost get away with it when they get back to the base.

Just then, a low creak reached Sandman's eardrums. Snapping his head around, he trained his ACR at the door. Low whispering erupted, but sadly, it wasn't what he had hoped for.

Four Russian guards steeped into the room, their guns grasped in their hands. As they poured into the room, Sandman stepped into the shadows. The first guard sprang up as Frost reached his sight. Bringing up his gun, the Russian was met with a slam to the temple and he fell to the ground, unconscious. The other three turned around quickly only to have Sandman darken their vision and fall to the floor in a heap.

"Truck, Grinch?" Sandman snapped heatedly.

Loud gun fire was heard in the background and then a few seconds later Truck answered with quick breaths. "Sorry, Boss, these guards spotted us before we could take them out!"

"We'll be down in a minute, contact Overlord for an evacuation!"

"Rog'," Truck replied then the connection fell silent.

Sandman turned towards the door, keeping his sight set on the wooden plank. "Frost," he started.

"I know, I know. 'Type faster,' ya, ya I got it." Frost breathed in quickly and ran his eyes across the page. Just one more word…and. "Done," he called loudly.

"Good, now follow me and keep that file safe." With that Sandman sprinted towards the hallway door, sliding next to the doorframe. Cracking the door open, Sandman poked his head through the opening and glanced down the hallway. Identifying nothing, he turned back towards Frost who had strapped the file to his chest and swung his assault rifle into his hands. Nodding to each other they sprinted down the hallway and raced down the large Mansions steps.

The steps that they ran down had an old red carpet plastered to it; the once ruby red was now dull to a dark beaten rose color and the gray swirls that made a soft design had sucked in dust, but the bottom of the solder's boots had kicked the dust back into the air and twirled as their figures raced by. The walls were torn in dissimilar directions; bullet holes knocked down some painted pictures and scratched the once golden paint that had designed the Mansion walls.

Quickly looking over the railing, Frost glanced down at the living room. The large, white, bullet holed couch laid on its side as the large once glowing TV that had projected pictures, now spat out orange sparks.

"Where's Grinch and Truck?" Frost asked firmly as he ran down the remaining steps and met up with Sandman.

"My bet is that they are outside, probably holding off the remaining troops that had hid here trying to protect the information we just stole." Without another word, Sandman rushed towards the large kitchen, which was littered with old and used food wrappers. "Come on, we can meet the others this way."

As they raced their way through and out the back of the house, Frost retained his assault rifle gasped tightly in his hands. Swiftly, they came upon doors that lead to the backyard. Opening the door slightly, Sandman unconsciously swung his ACR around his shoulder and pulled out his pistol, bringing it up and stepped out onto the vast lawn. The once luscious emerald lawn was now littered with limp tangled bodies and painted in a deep red paint. The pathway leading to a pool now windswept across the lawn, large white marble stones were thrown across the field as if men had took turns tossing the large stone in competition.

Shifting his dark blue eyes across the yard, Sandman set his eyes on lawn chairs which sat unharmed next to the tarnished pathway. Bringing down his pistol, Sandman shook his head and marched towards the men sitting in the seats.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sandman asked, his voice rumbling deeply.

Grinch smiled as he lifted his ball cap slightly then settled it back onto his head. "Nothin' much, boss, just loungin'."

"While there could be more tangos around here?"

"We took care of 'em," Grinch pointed towards the bodies on the lawn.

Cutting into the conversation, Truck leaned onto his knees and spoke up. "Sir, evac should be here in 3."

Sandman sighed, "Fine…Get on your feet gentlemen, we completed this mission."

* * *

Overlord marched down a large hallway, a file clasped insecurely in his hands. His eyes scanned the pages. Taking a right, Overlord turned over a page and his eyes scanned the writing. He was currently looking over the review of Team Metal's last mission, which was to retrieve Russian Intel on rumors of chemical storages. Before the teams briefing, Overlord had high hope of this mission and maybe slight anxiety. But all had turned out well, and that's all that mattered…right? Right.

Suddenly the paper that he had so loosely held in his grasp sprang up towards his face and his hands slapped into his chest. As the file fluttered towards the ground, Overlord blinked quickly trying to replay what had just happened.

"I'm so sorry, sir." A shaken voice sprang into the air.

Overlord blinked again, and then looked towards the ground where his file now lay. But swiftly, a figure raced down towards it and shaken hands collected the file then shot up with a smile slightly in the process.

"Sir, please forgive me," the small man spoke again. His hands held out the file and smiled.

Overlord looked down at the man, "No worry." He spoke taking hold of the file.

The man smiled then jumping slightly; he rubbed the back of his neck with a childish worried smile. "Oh thank goodness I found you, sir. I was running around this place trying to find you."

"Really?" Overlord cocked one of his eyebrows, "What for?"

Laughing uneasily, the man quickly reached into his left pocket and pulled out a flash drive. "This is the intel that Team Metal had retrieved from their last mission, sir."

Smiling, Overlord reached out and took hold of the small device. "Well good thing you retried it, I was about to go and recover it myself."

The man smiled and then with a small and shaking salute, he raced pass Overlord, who paid no attention to the man, his eyes only set on the small file set in his hand.

* * *

**Thanks for getting this far. I hope you enjoyed it and if you want more, please do not hesitate to review. Thanks again and all will be revealed in the next oncoming chapters. Oh, and if you have a question please ask, I'll answer in the next chapter.**

**REVIEW**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer James: I don't own**

**Important: "Sandman" Mayer, Frank "Truck" Binninger, and Noah "Grinch" Swanson **

**A/N: Hey guys sorry for the late update. School has got me packed. 5 classes, when I'm supposed to have 4, marching band (practices from 2 to 6) and the fact that life is once again smacking me in my face. So sorry if this chapter isn't as good as you had hoped for…but please try and enjoy it. My next updates probably won't be for a while, I may take even longer to update next time (I hope not though). I haven't had time to play any MW3 lately, so if the characters in here are a slightly off to you, please don't hesitate to tell me and I'll work hard on trying to fix them next time. Also its five in the morning and **_**I'm very tired**_** so instead of reading over my work I am just going to post it. Anyway, please enjoy…review and all that jazz.**

**StormyNight108:** _Thanks I like writing about Frost, he's awesome….No, no, no this is not one of Frost's first missions, more like his fifth or sixth. Please enjoy this chapter, thanks for the review!_

**Trainalf: **_Here's an update! Hope it's not too late, probably is thought. But please read this chapter I worked hard!_

**xXxFrostBitexXx:**_ Again sorry if this chapter is really late…_ _walking phenomena?…. D: Oh no! I hope you're ok…FEEL BETER! _

**DustMan:**_ Haha, thanks :) I hope you enjoy this chapter :D_

**NobodyEpic: **_two nobody's…wow that's amazing! Anyway, please tell me what you're confused about and I'll make sure that I don't miss any details!_

**Lt. Jay Chiuraya:** _…Is something wrong with Grinch? Because I can change him a tad bit if you would like. I just thought that the team needed a comic relief character in the story, with Frost's attitude and all…oh thanks :D I hope you like this chapter!_

**momo7902:**_ Thanks so much, well here is an update, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)_

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It was dark when they arrived back at their base. The sun seemingly set hours ago, leaving the moon to hang heavily in the sky like a large ball of bleached cheese. But despite the lack of light rays from the sun, the open field glowed with blinding light. It seemed even during the middle of the night, movement was in effect. As a large helicopter settled down on an open patch of pavement, the men sitting at its sides jumped off as soon as the landing skids touched the ground. Wind pushed the surrounding trees backwards, as if a large number of people shook each tree with all their might.

The four men that sat on the helicopter walked steadily towards a large cabin, their shoulders slumped as a sign that the energy they had a few moments ago, was now swept away from the spinning wind. Though one solder seemed more energetic then the rest as he took hold of another's arm and whispered forcefully in his ear before walking ahead of the other three.

Grinch walked up next to Truck, a look of humor stuck to his face. "So what do you think, Frost, fucked up this time?" His southern accent weaving heavily between each word, as he nudged his teammate.

Truck thought for a moment before a smirk reached the corner of his lips, "Probably snapped at, Sandman, for something." Grinch grinned, as a he stifled a laugh watching Frost march ahead, with his shoulders slumped and head tipped down.

Suddenly, as Frost was trudging forward, a man sloppily bumped into him. The small man tumbled towards the ground, only to have arms stop his fall with gravity. Looking up, the small man almost winced as he made eye contact with the man he had accidentally bumped into. Shadows casted over the man's features making him look deadly, but what had sent a chill running up his spine was the man's eyes that pierced through the shadows. The orbs glowed almost like a white light, but his eyes weren't white, but a light blue…almost like ice.

Taking in a breath, the small man stood on his feet and backed away from the soldier. "Uh," he began.

"Be careful next time, alright?" The words that came from Frost's lips made his teammates, that had stopped walking, raise an eyebrow in confusion. The sentence was warm, like a hot cup of tea with steam dancing above the liquid; this was not what the young man had expected.

"I'm so sorry, sir." He said with a salute.

Frost raised an eyebrow, "Now," He chuckled warmly, "please none of that. I don't like all that stuff."

"Sorry, sir," The young man repeated again. "How can I make it up to you?"

A smile reached Frost's lips and he reached into his pocket. "How nice of you to ask," He said and pulled out a small flashdrive. "Can you take this to Overlord?"

"Frost," Grinch spoke lowly, the humorous smile he had worn a few seconds ago, now gone like a flash of lighting.

Frost looked up at Grinch, who held a stern facial expression, and with sloppy wave, Frost looked back down at the young man. "Ah, it's alright, he's on his way in that direction anyway."

The young man blinked, "Um…actually, sir."

Frost smiled, "Good! Thanks kid, I'm beat!" With that, Frost marched forward, the warm smile he wore moments ago now turning back into his natural vacant expression.

As Frost marched past his teammates, Truck couldn't hold back the smile that pressed against his lips. "Someone has a soft side," Truck whispered loudly towards Grinch.

"Shut up," Frost growled.

* * *

Derek ran a hand through his hair as he leaned against the white colored wall, his shadow casting downwards as the lights overhead gave a few flickers before keeping brightly lit. Chewing on his cheek, Derek avoided as much eye contact as he could from the people that marched by. Some of the men seemed frightened by the voice that was booming from the man that tried, with much effort and little success, to keep the icy blue orbs in contact with his.

James let his head fall into his hand and rubbed his eyes wearily. "Look, Frost," he began once again. "I'm not trying to be the nagging mother of this group, but if we're going to get along then just listen to me!"

Derek looked to his right, the wall seeming to carry more interesting facts then the man standing in front of him. Derek then grunted, which made James sigh in response before taking a large step towards the raven haired man and pushing his finger into Derek's chest. "Look, don't fuck with me next time. I won't have as much patience."

And with that Sandman walked off down the hallway, his shoulders straightening with each step. Derek kept his gaze set on the man before raising an eyebrow and pushing himself off the wall.

* * *

Sandman walked into the briefing room, his energy running low and his patience running even lower. After having a long, _quiet_, _peaceful_, _non- head throbbing_ talk with the _slightly_ new FNG, Sandman had gotten a command to head up to the briefing room and meat Overlord for a short chat.

After missions, Sandman would normally head towards the briefing room to discuss the outcome of them, so he wasn't too worried about the meeting. That was, until he opened the large double doors and saw Overlord sitting forward heavily, his elbows were propping up his arms which held his head. The man looked stressed.

Cocking an eyebrow, Sandman mentally questioned the health of the man. "Sir," he began and saw Overlord jump slightly. "Is everything alright?"

Overlord looked up, his eyes carrying stress. "Sandman, good you've come."

"Sir," Sandman nodded.

"We have a problem," he started flatly, "Someone stole information."

Sandman stood silently, but his hands tightened into fist and his breath hitched. _Someone hacked the system? How?_ "But…but, sir….how is that possible?"

"By a hacker, of course, and there are many one this base – but only a few can hack the system we have here." Overlord stood up his hands clasping behind his back, "At 1800 the system was hacked, which was a few hours before your last mission. An hour ago, we got intel from our Russian spy that fire arms, war plans, and highly classified information was sent from the location your team was sent."

Sandman swallowed thickly, "Sir…what are you getting at?"

"Sandman…did you know that one of the few hackers, that can hack these systems, is on your team?"

"No, sir."

"And did you know that he was moved to your team only 5 missions ago?"

Sandman paused with the answer, _is he accusing Frost?_

"Derek 'Frost' Westbrook…" Overlord said coldly. "We cannot accuse him of being a spy, _yet_. But I am willing to bet that man is. Your next mission, Master Sergeant, is to convict your new FNG of being a Russian spy."

Sandman blinked, "What?" He asked with disbelief, he stepped forward the stress he had felt moments ago washing away as anger replaced his features. "You – Sir, I can't do that! He's my teammate, my colleague…I can't _betray_ him." Sandman wanted to scream that this man, Frost was a US citizen who had joined the army to fight for what he thought was right. Frost wasn't some spy from Russia…

"You will, Sergeant, that's an _order_." Overlord shot Sandman an angered look, "I'm not letting a spy slip through my fingers." Clearing his throat, "Now then, go get some rest…"

Sandman swiftly saluted before turning around quickly and marching off towards his room, but before he could make it out the door, Overlord called out to him. "Oh, don't tell Truck or Grinch, I trust them."

And with that, Sandman left the room, his anger radiating off of him with such force, he swore the floor beneath him was melting with each heated step.

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**REVIEWS WOULD HELP THIS STORY GROW IN DEPTH! :D Please like, favorite, or review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Right now I'm stuck in a car for ten more hours and I've been sleeping for two…Not sleepy – just bored. So YES, it is Christmas Eve, or to those reading this in a different time zone, Christmas – I think. Anyway, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a happy new year. It seems the Mayans predicted the end of Twinkies not the end of the world…I'm getting off topic. Anyway, this chapter is a fill in chapter because; well because I wanted to write something different. I hope you can tell that my writing is a bit different…I put me, myself and the character in this. So I hope it doesn't seem too weird to all who have read my previous work. Also, I am in the car – meaning I will not respond to the reviews this time. Sorry but once I get to my father's house then I will upload this and go. To. Bed. Have a wonderful Christmas and enjoy! My gift to you :D Happy holidays everyone!**

* * *

So this was it, this is how it would end. Sadly, he wished the end would be more – pft, what the hell would he know. This couldn't be the end. Right? Of course not. Nothing could put down the great Frost. Not even the cracking boards beneath his feet. You may be confused right now, but everything leading up to this moment had a type of…looked on appearance. As if someone was watching his every move. He felt like a little kid – the bad child in the room, who was always being watched over by their teacher. As if he made that one little mistake and everything leading up to this moment was a secret test.

He must have hit his head to rough. 'Cause, God that was a stupid thought bubble.

No one was watching him.

And he _didn't_ make a mistake.

Anyway, he had more important things to worry about. For an example – just throwing it out there – like jumping to save Sandman before he fell off the old bridge they were on. But, like always, it demanded something challenging to take part.

At this very moment the world was spinning. How'd that happen? Oh, hell – hell must have wanted him back. Because, as Grinch and Truck crossed the old bridge they had to cross for their suddenly important mission, Frost was the last to step onto the bridge. Not such a great idea in his part, but he truly didn't want another teammate in his position (though he would never admit it). So, at the point he took his ninth steady step onto the old wooden boards, the wood suddenly cracked beneath his foot and he fell forwards. As his arms floundered at his sides and one foot attempting to do the impossible – which was to catch his full body weight, Frost fell forwards like a large tree being chopped down and crashing against the boards.

Did he mention it was raining? Of course not, he always missed the small details.

Water sprung up into the air, and the wood groaned as a full man's weight was forced upon it. Frost tried to prevent the grunt in frustration/surprise and once the world stopped somewhat spinning he groggily looked up and noticed the shocked looks of his teammates. Had it really been that much of a shock? Well, looking down, he would be in a shocked state too if he had noticed how far up they were. About 50 or so feet down, fog hovered thickly in the air. So he couldn't tell how far he would have fallen – great. Oh, and as an added bonus, the sounds of crashing waves clashing against rocks hit his ears. This made him swallow, thickly.

Looking back, Frost tugged at his foot that had shattered the wood. And to his surprise, it was stuck. Fan-fucking-tastic. With a hurried glance, Frost noticed his teammates working their way onto the bridge. "No," Frost clashed them back with his voice. "You guys can't come on here; if any more weight is put on here then the bridge will collapse."

"Damn it, Frost."

Frost looked around. That was Sandman alright, but where the hell was he? Oh – there he was. The floorboards seemed to have eaten him. Oh. Well shit.

The man had only his arms preventing him from falling into the unknown abyss. He struggled against the slippery, old, cold boards and looked as if the more he struggled the more he seemed to fail at his objective. So then, life gave him another challenge. Must be all the karma he had built up as a kid. Now then, how was he going to save Sandman?

"Sandman," Frost called, "Don't move."

Short, simple, and to the point, he had to listen to that command right?

Nope, of course not, this was Sandman.

"What the hell type of advice is that, Frost?" Sandman semi shouted over his struggles to pull himself up.

"Well thought out advice!" Frost lied. So, with a good yank he loosened the hold around his foot and managed to prop himself on his hands and knees. The bridge groaned again. He only had one shot at this, and hell if this didn't work, either Sandman or him would end up canned tuna, or both.

Grinch watched Frost shift to his hands and knees, then as the kid glanced at the ropes at both his sides, a small twinkle started showing in the kid's eyes. "Are you joking," Grinch huffed out.

"What?" Truck looked towards Grinch, his eyes holding questions.

"Our FNG is at it again." Grinch growled then took a step forward, his feet inches away from the very old bridge they had so daringly crossed. "Frost I swear to God," Grinch cried out, "Don't fuck with me!"

"You worry too much, Grinch," Frost called out. Then with one swift movement he jumped to his feet and speed forward, water leaving a trail behind the confident bloke. As Frost neared Sandman, he stopped running, but in some weird fucking way, his feet never lost their momentum and the FNG slid forward before he grabbed hold of Sandman and threw him forward.

Was this a cartoon? The events so far had proven it a true statement. But no, sadly it wasn't.

Sandman flew through the air with such momentum, Grinch and Truck didn't have enough time to rush out of the way before their captain crashed into them – sending them all into a large mud puddle. Not taking any down time, Sandman shot to his hands and knees like a mad bull and faced Frost. But…how was he supposed to vent out his anger if the person he was mad at wasn't there?

"Frost?"

* * *

He hung on a rope.

Yup, he was alive. Thank god. Saving Sandman wasn't the way he wanted to go. He didn't mind saving the big lug head, but damn did the man have to be so fucking heavy that by the simple weight of tossing a military man into the air, sent him straight through the floorboards. Thank the lord he thought ahead of time, or he would be mincemeat right now.

He heard his team calling his name, in some sort of questionable manner. Did they not think he was still around? He didn't do a magic trick, just slipped. He was still hanging around. Suddenly, Truck glanced over the edge and gazed at Frost swinging back and forth on a rope he was holding onto as if it were his lifeline. In reality, it was. So, as quick as he could take hold of the rope, Truck towed his teammate up and lugged him over the edge and onto the land. The soldier landed on the sodden surface with a tiered thud, heaving in precious oxygen into his weary lungs.

"Let's get moving," Frost heard Sandman whisper before falling footsteps started to hike obsolete.

"Great," Frost mumbled as he wobbled to his feet, "Not even a thanks."

* * *

**So, I have no idea how to explain this chapter, it was a fill in chapter – but with action…or at least that's what I wanted to happen. I hoped that happened.**

**Thanks to ALL who reviewed, I hoped to get more! Right now I can't see the ones who updated, so next chapter I will reply tenfold to those who reviewed. Sorry :)**

**FAVOROITE, REVIEW, FOLLOW**


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